


too cute for your own good

by Ser_Thirst_A_Lot



Series: Camp Nano 2020 Fics and Ficlets [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Fluff, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Madara's Denial (TM), Madara's Flailing (TM), Romance, low-key flirting, so it's especially tooth-rotting sweetness you have been warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:08:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23535046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ser_Thirst_A_Lot/pseuds/Ser_Thirst_A_Lot
Summary: Madara is personally offended that Senju Tobirama, cold indifference incarnate, has thegallto look adorable while playing with children who've managed to equip him with aflower crown, of all things.Surely, this should be considered a full-fledged crime.
Relationships: Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Madara
Series: Camp Nano 2020 Fics and Ficlets [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1685827
Comments: 35
Kudos: 477





	too cute for your own good

**Author's Note:**

  * For [antukini](https://archiveofourown.org/users/antukini/gifts).



> more nanowrimooooo and i honestly didn't expect to reach 12k out of 30k goal so soon in april lmao  
> madatobi is really inspiring me above and beyond innit?  
>  ~~(for those following my choose your adventure story, i'll post the next chapter tomorrow after i edit it asdfghjk)~~
> 
> enjoy!

It’s a peaceful evening when Madara leaves the Administration Tower to face Konoha drenched in a sunset palette. The fresh air is calming, his surroundings peaceful, making it the perfect walk before his hopefully quiet evening with a book and delicious tea before bed.

Perfect—at least until he runs into a bunch of _kids,_ and, more importantly, _Senju Tobirama_ huddled on the edge of a playground—and Madara _has_ to stop in his tracks because the situation simply _doesn’t_ make sense. 

Hashirama’s little brother is still an enigma to him, and an annoying one, at that. He and Tobirama seem to disagree about everything, ranging from inconsequential things like which dessert should be served for dinner at Hashirama’s place to the exact nature of fine print in inter-village treaties _and_ , presumably, their fundamental outlooks on life. Tobirama is practicality incarnate, with little care for the feelings of others and a mind set on clear-cut goals. Madara, admittedly, has never had a good grip on his own emotions and valued life, energy, passion, unlike the cold-eyed bastard he’s gotten used to always seeing at his best friend’s side.

The cold-eyed, emotionless bastard who is now laughing, joyful and carefree, while getting wrestled into the dirt by a group of children who look to be no more than eight years old.

Madara may have been caught in somebody’s genjutsu, all things considered, even the fact that he has yet to meet someone as skilled in the art as he is. He glances around to make sure no one notices him making a discreet ‘Kai!’ gesture and, as expected, finds himself remaining in this strange reality, however the hell it came to be. 

“Do it, Koharu! Now!” a familiar squeaky voice shouts, and Madara’s brain does another somersault when he realizes one of the kids in the group is Uchiha Kagami. 

_Since when?_

“Hold him down, hold him down!” Another kid with a scar on his chin is restraining a still laughing Tobirama with another messy-haired boy in tow, while the only girl among them retrieves _a blue flower crown_ and proudly sets it on Tobirama’s mess of white hair.

Madara feels like he’s short-circuiting, much like those experimental electricity grids Tobirama is working on in order to enhance the village’s infrastructure. 

Meanwhile, Tobirama wriggles his hands free and raises them above his head in a show of defeat. 

“You’ve got me. I surrender,” he says in mock disappointment as the kids whoop and high-five around him. 

“Don’t forget, Sensei,” an Akimichi boy says, “you’ve gotta wear it the who-ole day tomorrow to work.”

“Yep,” Kagami says, pulling up another flower crown from the ground and donning it himself. “We’ll be checking!”

Madara almost chokes as he realizes two very, extremely unsettling things. 

One, he’s going to have to be treated to the image of _Senju Tobirama_ in a _flower crown_ the _whole bloody day_ tomorrow in their _godsdamned_ shared office because Hashirama, the stupid tree, refuses to separate them. 

And two, Madara finds Tobirama in a flower crown _adorable_.

Cute.

Pretty. 

Madara tries to forcefully still his faltering heartbeat and honestly wishes for the gods to smite him right this second. There has never been a better time. 

_I_ cannot _have a crush on that bastard,_ he thinks, just as Tobirama turns to face him once he finally notices him. There’s no surprise on his face though, and Madara remembers that, yes, this is the strongest sensor in probably all of the Five Countries who’s probably known Madara was here all along. 

And Madara’s staring at him with what he’s _sure_ is an idiotic expression.

Fuck, fuck, _fuck_.

“You look stupid!” Madara blurts out before he can stop himself and immediately gives himself a mental beating, both for lying and his poor impulse control. 

“You’re probably right,” Tobirama calls from the playground, still grinning widely. “Pass me that one, Saru?”

The kid he addressed glances at Madara, then at Tobirama, a dangerous gleam flashing through his eyes as he picks out one of the flower crowns—adorned with black and red rose petals, of all things. Tobirama takes it and crosses the playground in a matter of seconds to where Madara stands, frozen in shock and embarrassment.

“A flower crown would suit you better, I think,” Tobirama says, thoughtful, as he tries to put the flowery monstrosity onto Madara’s head.

Madara struggles, of course, because he’s not about to lose his dignity to this asshole, and swears creatively enough for the kids to gasp and mockingly chide him from where they’re eavesdropping. It’s a testament to Tobirama’s speed and reflexes how he latches onto Madara’s wrist before he can flee, restrains him and places the offending item on top of Madara’s hair. 

_I didn't brush it,_ Madara realizes, suddenly self-conscious. _Why the fuck do I even care?_ he questions himself immediately after. 

“Fuck you, Senju!” he shouts to block out the confusing thoughts, and turns around to glare at Tobirama, who’s shaking with poorly restrained laughter. 

“I knew it,” Tobirama says, “fits you perfectly.”

“It does not!” Madara yanks the crown off his head and burns it to a crisp with fire hot enough to melt iron. “And stop mocking me!”

“I wasn’t,” Tobirama says, shrugging. “You really did look beautiful in that one,” he upends Madara’s composure, _again,_ with a single sentence. “A shame.”

“What the fuck,” Madara whispers, “has gotten into you, Senju? Are you _drunk?_ ”

“No,” Tobirama chuckles, “just in a good mood. I’m feeling generous today.” He tilts his head to the side in an adorable gesture that makes Madara’s heart skip another beat. He should really get that under control; he read somewhere this arrhythmia thing is dangerous.

Madara forcefully keeps his mouth _shut_ because the words that want to come out would be the final nail in the coffin of his pretense of lacking feelings for the white-haired bastard. Then, just as Tobirama turns to go back to the kids, Madara decides to simply go for it, since he seems to have already lost his dignity anyway.

“Wait,” he says, “I’m generous enough to offer a compliment in return.”

“Oh?” Tobirama turns back to him, surprised.

To his credit, Madara splutters only a little. 

“Your smile looks—nice!” he says with a tad too much aggression, face feeling too hot for him to _not_ be blushing. 

“Why thank you, Madara,” Tobirama says, the smile in question growing wider. “And congratulations. I believe this is our first conversation that didn’t end in a fight.” 

He gives Madara the slightest bow, which makes the blue petals nearly slide off his head. Madara reaches out on instinct to adjust it, then jerks his hand away as if from a fire when he realizes what he’s doing.

And _Tobirama_ fucking _winks_ at him, making Madara Sharingan light up before he can stop it, and suddenly he’s treated to the crystal clear sight of, admittedly, the prettiest smile he’d ever seen and striking red eyes Madara doesn’t want to look away from.

He has to, though, because with that, Tobirama shunshins back to the center of the playground where those hellspawn kids are laughing maniacally and humming traditional romantic music. Tobirama, gods damn him, starts assaulting them with tickles. 

Madara huffs, offended at yet more of this excessive cuteness, and stalks off towards his house in the quickest pace he can manage before taking to the rooftops in his impatience. 

He _needs_ his quiet evening. 

And tea. 

And probably _not_ a book, but instead a few hours—or a sleepless night—to ruminate on exactly how he’s going to attempt to ask the infuriating Senju out for a dinner date tomorrow.

 _Without_ spluttering and flailing this time. 

**Author's Note:**

> spoiler: he _totally_ flails the next time. And the next. AND THE NEXT. And Tobirama adores his idiot more with every time :D
> 
> thanks for the read! :3
> 
> find me on [tumblr](http://louiserandom.tumblr.com)


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